God, he was really losing it. He'd taken a swing at Sandy. Sandy!

He was losing his mind. He had everything, a caring home, a chance at college, real friends that cared about him, and what the hell did he do? Take a swing at the only man that had ever believed in him. Drinking and doing drugs when he knew first-hand that nothing good came out of it. Fucking random girls when he knew that casual sex only brought heartache and loneliness.

He was so fucking stupid. And drunk. Stupid drunk.

He didn't need to wait around to explain himself, he had to get away from Sandy.

Sandy Cohen was a good man.

And Ryan tried to punch his face in.

He glanced down at his swelling hand in the glow of the streetlights. He'd felt something crack when he'd connected with the metal.

But he'd earned the pain.

He was like a dog, biting the hand that fed him. He really was an ungrateful little punk, just like his mom had always told him. No wonder she left him. She'd put up with him sixteen years and it had only taken a couple of years for him to start poisoning the Cohens, too.

He stopped walking and leaned against the wall. He glanced around him before sliding down to sit on the sidewalk. He didn't know where he was. He'd ran for several blocks at least before slowing down. His head was still spinning.

God, he'd really fucking done it now. He'd tried to hit Sandy.

He couldn't even process it.

Trey would be fucking proud. He'd finally inherited the Atwood gene for fucking up beyond all repair.

He couldn't fix this. He couldn't go back to his happy, complacent life with the Cohens. His great life with the Cohens.

It was over now. He'd tried to hit Sandy.

And even afterwards, Sandy had wanted to take him to a doctor to take care of his hand. Sandy hadn't even been upset, he'd been worried.

Ryan fucked up. He was fucked up. He was fucked up beyond repair.


"Sandy, where have you been?" She'd been waiting for him to come home for hours.

"Is Ryan home?" Sandy asked, not looking at her.

"No, Sandy…"

Sandy walked past her up the stairs to Seth's room. She followed him. He knocked on the door and turned to her when Seth opened the door.

"Ryan's taken off. We need to find him. Now. I don't know what he's thinking or what he's going to do and we have to find him. I'm not going to lose him over this bullshit…" he started.

"Wait. Dad, what are you talking about?" Seth asked. "You were supposed to be cool about it, just talk to him and now you're telling me that he took off?"

"I found him and I tried to talk to him…but he's so defensive, so angry and…he took off," Sandy said.

"What aren't you telling us?" she asked after a beat. It wasn't like him to keep stuff from her. And she needed to know what happened.

"He…he took a swing at me. Dented the beamer. He probably broke his hand because he put a hell of a dent in it and…" he started.

"Fuck. I'm going to find him," Seth said, running past them down the stairs.

"I messed up, Kirsten. I wasn't here for him and now…he doesn't trust me, he tried to hit me, doesn't he know that I wouldn't hurt him, that I only want to help him?"

She wrapped her arms around him. "We'll fix it…he won't run away, Sandy, he loves us too much…"

"I don't know, Kirsten…you didn't see him…he's hurting so much and he's so angry…he…what are we going to do?"

She rubbed his back until he finally put his arms around her with a sigh. "We'll find him. He'll be okay…"

"I shouldn't have helped Rebecca…my family, it's falling apart and I didn't even see it…"

"Sandy. We'll take care of him, okay? Let's go, we'll take the beamer and we'll make a couple of laps around town. He can't go far…"

"I have his bike. He's on foot so he can't go far," Sandy said, steadying himself. Kirsten watched as he put what Seth called 'his game face' on.

Sometimes Kirsten thought that Sandy could do anything he put his mind to. And sometimes she knew he could.


Ryan took a deep breath. His hand was throbbing and sharp pains were shooting up his wrist and arm despite the numbing effect of the alcohol.

He had reached a crossroads.

He had 500 dollars in his pocket and he could hop a bus. Leave Newport behind. Leave Chino behind.

A fresh start.

Another one.

Totally on his own with no one to worry about, no one to disappoint.

Or he could turn around and go back to the Cohens.

Seth and Kirsten.

Sandy.

Would Sandy forgive him?

Could he forgive himself?

He had to do something. Things had gotten out of control. Again. It seemed that things always got out of control before he even knew that they were spinning.

He started walking.

Fuck Chino.

Fuck what he'd learned there.

He'd accomplished more in Newport than all the earlier years in his life.

He'd beg for forgiveness.

He'd suffer whatever consequences he had to.

He'd never forgive himself for hurting the Cohens when they'd been so good to him. He couldn't just walk away.

Ryan's father had taught him to run. The bastard wouldn't be in jail now if he hadn't ran from the police. And Trey, well, that was how Ryan ended up here.

He'd learned from the Cohens to stay. He hadn't run from Teresa, he hadn't run from Oliver, or his probation. He had to stay.

If Sandy wanted him to leave, he'd go. But he had to at least stay to face the consequences. Say goodbye.

The house was empty when he got inside. It was after 2 am. All the lights on. No cars in the driveway.

They were looking for him.

He picked up the phone with his good hand and set it flat against the counter so he could dial.

"Seth? Did you find him?" Sandy answered immediately.

"It's me."

"Ryan? You're at the house?"

"Yeah. I'm sorry."

"Stay there, we'll be home soon, okay? Just…just stay, Ryan."

He hung up the phone and sat down on the stool to wait.

Crossroads.


Sandy walked into the kitchen alone, Kirsten having accepted his need to talk to Ryan alone.

Ryan was sitting on the stool in the kitchen, both hands on the counter, like he was in juvie and needed to keep his hands in plain sight. His right hand was swollen and trembling and when he raised his eyes to meet Sandy's, they were dull with guilt.

Sandy wasn't angry.

He was worried.

He knew he should be angry. His kid was drinking, getting high, having sex and he'd attacked him.

But it was Ryan. Ryan wasn't a normal kid. Ryan wouldn't act like that if something wasn't wrong. Ryan knew what it was like to have responsibilities, to take responsibility, to be a man.

"Can I see your hand?" he asked.

Ryan stiffly moved his hand toward Sandy, the pain evident on his face.

"It's broken," Ryan said quietly.

"Will you let me take you to the hospital?"

"It can wait," he replied.

"We can talk on the way. We have lots of time to talk."

"I'll leave if you ask me to," Ryan whispered.

"I will never ask you to leave," Sandy replied, honestly. "Come on."

Sandy waited for Ryan to take the lead. He needed to talk to him but the kid's health came first.

He opened the passenger door for him and Ryan climbed in, waiting patiently for him to get in the driver's seat.

Sandy drove in silence for several minutes and was surprised when Ryan's voice started.

"I'm sorry. I'm not thinking straight. I…I'm just so frustrated and I'm sorry…"

"Ryan. It's okay…"

"It's not okay. Nothing is okay…"

Sandy glanced at him but Ryan's face was blank. His eyes were the only window to the pure emotion in his voice. "Kid, it's okay. You…you're having a rough time, but I'm here for you…"

"I tried to hit you…"

"I know and we'll have to deal with that, but it doesn't change the fact that you're a part of my family and I'm not giving up on you. We've come too far. Did you really think I'd ask you to leave?"

"I tried to hit you."

"I know. You're so angry, Ryan, and I…why are you so angry?" Sandy asked.

Ryan shuddered suddenly, covering his face with his good hand. "It all seems so stupid now. I was just trying to cut loose…expel some stress, you know? It seems like everything I do is for other people, I never really get to do anything that's fun for me…" He paused, clearly struggling with his voice. "I go to the comic book store with Seth, I went to the Science Olympics with Lindsay, I go to the farmer's market with Kirsten…it's like, I don't even know who I am anymore because I've been so busy trying to be somebody else…"

"So, drinking, having sex, this is you?" Sandy questioned, wanting to keep him talking.

"I don't know, Sandy, that's just it…I don't know. It was me in Chino. I was a faded version of Trey…I followed his lead…"

"That's how you got arrested, following his lead…" Sandy added quietly.

"I know. I…I can't believe I tried to hit you…I don't know what's wrong with me…"

Sandy parked his car in the lot outside the emergency room and turned to face him. "I know I haven't been around much lately and I can't tell you how sorry about that I am…but you have to talk to me, and if not to me, you have to talk to someone. You can't shut us out, okay?"

Ryan nodded.

"Let's go get your hand taken care of. We'll call Dr. Kim in the morning and let her know you won't be in…"

"I shouldn't miss school…" Ryan said, following him toward the E.R.

"You haven't missed a day since you started, kid, I think your grades can take it," Sandy replied, patting him on the back. He was pleased that Ryan didn't flinch. He kept his hand on his back. Slowly but surely he would get the kid he knew back.


"If you're waiting up, then I'm waiting up," Seth said, settling onto the couch with his mother.

He was coming down off his panicked adrenaline rush and had started a pot of coffee in the kitchen to keep himself going.

Ryan had seriously flipped out. He'd tried to hit his dad. And Seth knew Ryan would never do that if he was in his right mind.

"Seth, I'm sure Ryan's fine. He didn't take off, he came home after he cooled off," his mother said softly.

"I know. Ryan…he's my best friend. He's the only brother I've ever had, I just wish I knew how to help him."

"I'm sure you do help him, Seth…"

"I talk to him, Mom, but he doesn't…he doesn't talk."

Kirsten sighed. "I know. He's different. He doesn't communicate like we do. With words. When something's bothering him, I think it hurts him more to talk about it…but it doesn't help him either."

"I wonder who he talked to in Chino," Seth said aloud.

"Teresa, probably," his mother replied, thoughtful.

"He never talked to Marissa…"

"I think he talked to Lindsay. That's probably one of the reasons it hit him so hard when she left," Kirsten replied.

"Why can't he talk to me?"

"Do you give him time?" she teased.

"Yeah. I always ask about his day, his life, everything, but he never tells me anything…"

"Seth, you should probably take that up with him. I think he talks more to you than anyone else. So if you don't think he's talking to you, then…he's not talking to anyone. I don't think you should take it personally. Why are you so worried about him?"

He turned to his mother and realized that his dad had kept his confidence. She didn't know about his earlier confession to his dad.

"I…something's going on with him. I…"

"Right. Can't break the code. Do I smell coffee?"

"Must be done. Let's get caffeinated and maybe Dad will call," Seth said, standing up.


"Hang tight, kid, we're almost out of here," Sandy was saying.

Ryan closed his eyes as the nurse slid the needle into his arm. They'd put a cast on his hand, he had three broken fingers and two broken bones in his hand. Sandy kept reassuring him that it would cost less to fix his hand than it would to fix the dent in the beamer, but it didn't make him feel any better.

He felt dirty. Disgusting. He felt like he was taking advantage of Sandy.

Why couldn't Sandy get mad like normal people? Ryan would feel tons better if Sandy had simply reciprocated and punched him or something, at least then he'd be punished.

The Cohens' idea of punishment was a grounding and taking away of privileges. Living in Newport, in their house, that was privilege enough.

Ryan couldn't handle forgiveness. Unconditional love. They were both foreign concepts as far as he was concerned. Sure, he knew that they existed, he'd used both of them for his own family, but no one had ever reciprocated. And if they tried, he couldn't handle it, especially from the Cohens when he'd done so much to sabotage their charity.

Charity.

"Ryan? She's all done and I'm finished with your paperwork. Are you ready to go home?" Sandy's voice was gentle.

He nodded. But he wasn't being honest. He wasn't ready to go home. He didn't deserve to go home. Not with Sandy.

"Kid, come on. You've had a long day. Let's get you home to bed. The lectures can wait until tomorrow. Okay?"

He nodded again and opened his eyes. Sandy was looking at him with worry behind his eyes. Concern.

But it only made Ryan feel worse.